


Late Bloomer

by imamaryanne



Category: California Diaries - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Coming Out, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 02:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2490392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imamaryanne/pseuds/imamaryanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jay has an important question for Ducky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Bloomer

**Author's Note:**

> Written about four years ago for the Babysitters_100 challenge. The prompt was Bedroom. Reposting here because I'm back on a California Diaries kick. 
> 
> This takes place during California Diaries #10, the evening of December 2nd, after Jay unsuccessfully tries to set Ducky up on a date with Lee Ann’s hot Swedish cousin. Told using the same ‘voice’ as Ducky in his diaries, which, if you haven’t read them are written entirely in the second person.

**Later.  Much later.**

 

Jay just left and you are spent - tired at the thinking he’s made you do. You can’t believe what he came over to say to you and you hope you said nothing incriminating because you’re pretty sure he was recording this conversation for all the cro-mags to have a good laugh at your expense.

It started innocuous enough. A knock on the door, your parents going to get it, and them shrieking with excitement to see Jay, whom they hadn’t seen in nearly a year. Because Jay can turn on the charm when he needs to, he actually acted interested in their work in Ghana, even though you know there’s nothing more boring than talking about Ghana.

Jay walks into the kitchen with his usual inane greeting, “Duckman! Duckarino! The Duckmeister!”

“Hi Jay,” you say. “What’s up?”

“I have a question for you.”  
  
Your stomach clenches, because you’re sure, beyond sure really, you’re 100% CERTAIN that he’s going to harp on you about setting you up with Lee Ann’s Swedish cousin again. “What’s the question?” You’re trying not to show that your teeth are clenched. 

Jay glances around and lowers his voice, “It’s kind of personal, can we go to your bedroom?”

You sigh, consider refusing his request but finally you get up and walk silently to your bedroom with Jay following behind you.

**The setting:**  Your Bedroom  
 **The scene** : You – sitting on the edge of your bed fiddling with the ends of your pillowcase (freshly cleaned since your mom has taken over laundry duty from Ted)  
Jay – standing at your desk, pretending to be interested in a badly-built model plane you built when you were ten years old and haven’t had the heart to get rid of yet. Jay seems nervous.  
 **The dialogue:**

            J:  Anyway, I’m sorry about trying to set you up again.  
            D: Okay.  That was your question?  
            J:  No, my question is kind of related to it though.  
            D: (after a moment’s silence) Okay.  What’s the question?  
            J:  (even more nervous than before.) Well, you know.  You kind of freaked out over being set up with Lee Ann. Which, I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. But there wasn’t really any reason to freak out over me ASKING you to go out with her cousin. Then Marco made that comment about you. And then I started thinking about how the other day I said if I was more like Alex, maybe you’d hang out with me more.  
          D: What’s your question, Jay?  
          J:  I was wondering if that’s the case, with Alex. That you won’t go out with Lee Ann’s cousin because you and Alex are already….(Jay drifts off)  
          D: Already what?  
          J:  (Stamps his foot impatiently). You know what I’m trying to ask, Ducky. Look, I have an aunt who’s a lesbian, so I’m okay with it.  
          D: Oh.  You have an aunt who’s a lesbian. What does that have to do with me?  
          J:  (Rolls his eyes, clearly getting more uncomfortable.) Don’t make this question harder on me than it has to be. (His head is tilted back and he’s looking at you from the side).  
          D: You haven’t asked me a question yet. (Your teeth are undeniably clenched now.)  
          J:  Are you gay? Are you together with Alex?

You’re too upset to write about this right now.

 

**Two O’Clock in the morning**

**(aka the fifth straight hour of your major freak-out)**

 

You’re sitting on your bed, in the exact same position that you were sitting in when Jay came over and dropped his bombshell of a question. Instead of playing with your freshly laundered pillowcase, you’re scribbling in your diary.  But you are sitting in the exact same spot. 

Of course you denied it to Jay. You told him you aren’t gay, and you resent the hell out of being questioned just because you aren’t some football playing Cro-Mag like Marco and Bud and the rest of Jay’s new friends. Why would he even ask that anyway?

You can’t believe he answered your rhetorical question. “It’s just the way you are Ducky. You dress a little girly,” (Well, if not wanting your jeans to hang off your butt is wrong, who wants to be right?) “You aren’t at all interested in girls except for those eighth graders you hang out with, you dressed up like CUPID last Valentine’s Day. And the other day, I saw you in the parking lot with Alex. He was depressed, no surprise there, and you were singing that song from Guys and Dolls to try and cheer him up. Guys don’t do that, Ducky. Straight guys don’t anyway. It’s seemed kind of queer.”

And you swear, you aren’t offended by his use of the word queer BECAUSE YOU AREN’T, so there’s no reason for you to be offended, right? But you continue to deny to Jay and you get angry and you kick him out of your room.

All for asking an honest question.

Then you spend the next several hours freaking out alone in your bedroom. And you want to talk to someone about this, but WHO IS THERE TO TALK TO? If Sunny wasn’t such a basket case, you’d go to her. If Alex wasn’t such a basket case, you’d go to him. Ted is out. Your parents are out.

Oh God, your parents.

You remember, with sudden clarity, a conversation you were unlucky enough to overhear about a year and a half ago. Your dad was wondering the same thing about you that Jay was wondering. He was worried and using phrases like, “It’s a hard life,” and “Chris is already getting picked on in school. These other kids can obviously see it.”

Your mom laughed it off and assured him that you were a late-bloomer. Words that you held on to for the last eighteen months, KNOWING that was the truth about yourself. 

But your father was adamant. “We need to stop letting him wear those tight jeans, and vests and tight pink t-shirts.”

Your mother laughed at how silly your father was being. And you laughed right along with her because of COURSE your dad was wrong and of COURSE your mother was right. And face it, pink is a good color on you. You held on to the belief of being a late bloomer for the last eighteen months. You’ve held onto that turn of phrase, “late-bloomer” like it was a life preserver and you were drowning in a sea of doubt about yourself.

No need to worry about not being interested in kissing Sunny even though you KNOW she’s gorgeous and funny and smart. Because eventually that interest will come around, you’re just a late-bloomer, Ducky. 

No need to worry when the Cro-Mags say you flit around or call you a fairy or laughingly tell Jay that Lee Ann or her cousin aren’t your type. Because they’ll see that you’re just a late-bloomer. 

No need to worry that you occasionally find yourself staring at Bud. Because you aren’t staring at him LIKE THAT, you’re just doing a little comparison between him and your own late-bloomer body.  

You see it, your mother sees it. WHY CAN’T JAY SEE IT? Why can’t the rest of the Cro-Mags see what you and your mother see?

Unless.

God, don’t even think it.

Are you and your mother failing to see what Jay sees and what your father sees and what the rest of the Cro-Mags see?

No.

You can’t even believe you wrote that. 

BECAUSE IT’S NOT TRUE.

Say it to yourself, Ducky. You are not gay. You are not gay. Lather, rinse, repeat. You. Are. Not. Gay.

Unless. Maybe you are. 

No.  You can’t give Jay that much credit. Those Cro-Mags with their tiny Neanderthal brains could never pick up on that about you if you couldn’t pick up on it yourself. Late-Bloomer. Say it again, Ducky. LATE-BLOOMER.

You’re safe. You aren’t gay.

 

**One Hour Later**

**(Hour Six of major freak out)**  

Except that you are. 

 


End file.
